


Trade-Off

by maximum_overboner



Series: The Exchange [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Gen, Sad, a write up of a scrapped ending, deeply traumatised papyrus, he's in there somewhere but you're GONNA HAVE TO GO DIGGING, papyrus does NOT DESERVE THIS, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner
Summary: The price Papyrus pays for comfort is as harrowing as it is expected.





	Trade-Off

**Author's Note:**

> so i mentioned, as a bit of fun trivia on the blog, what the original ending to i'm feeling fine kid was going to be! i changed it because i couldn't bear to have the story end on a depressing note, but an anon persuaded me to write it up. this doesn't happen, but consider it a fun 'what if' 
> 
> papyrus, deeply traumatized from his experiences, develops an alcohol problem just as sans did.

Sans knew a thing or two about watering holes, and how easy it was to tumble and drown in them. He walked into the bar, down the stairs and around the corner, following the thin thread of music from the door until he found the main seating area. People pairing off, friends out for the night, yellow, shaking regulars and, at the very end, sat on a bar stool, his brother. His sleeves rolled up, swapping his empty glass for a fresh one and chatting amiably with one of the staff, his shoulders sunken. With a sigh of relief, Sans approached him from the back, and Papyrus spoke before he announced himself.

“COME TO LEND ME A HAND, I SEE.”

Papyrus chuckled blithely at the pun and Sans laughed out of politeness, his face unmoving.

“uh, in a sense.”

“HOW DID YOU FIND ME?”

“i, uh… checked your jacket and found a flyer for this place. figured i should look here. you aren’t hard to spot in a crowd, by the way.”

“TOO LOUD A SHIRT?”

“that, and the whole ‘only skeleton here’ thing.”

“THE NEXT TIME I FALL INTO A SLUMP I THINK I’LL BRING A WIG.”

Sans climbed up onto the stool next to him, looking around and getting his bearings. He looked at Papyrus’ face and wish he hadn’t.

“this your haunt now?”

“WAS THAT A PUN?”

“not intentional.”

“I SUPPOSE IT IS. UNDYNE FOUND THIS PLACE A FEW MONTHS AGO. MONSTER FRIENDLY, NICE ATMOSPHERE, NOT PACKED. WE WOULD COME HERE EVERY SATURDAY, GET A FEW DRINKS, CATCH UP. YOU KNOW. WEEKEND THINGS.”

“it’s a tuesday.”

Papyrus sipped his drink.

“YEP.”

Sans nodded at the woman working the bar. Papyrus tapped his shoulder with the blunt end of his arm.

“I DON’T KNOW IF THAT’S A GOOD IDEA, YOU’RE A RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC.”

Sans looked at him pointedly, more weary than angry.

“i’m getting an orange juice.”

“GOOD. THE COCKTAILS HERE ARE AWFUL, ANYWAY. WOULDN’T KNOW A DECENT SCREWDRIVER IF IT STABBED THEM IN THE EYE.”

Papyrus paused.

“OH MY GOD, THAT SOUNDED…”

“yeah…”

“THAT SOUNDED JUST LIKE HIM, DIDN’T IT? WHAT AM I SAYING? SORRY. SORRY, ABOUT THAT.”

Sans took his drink, sipped some, and came right out with it.

“what are you doing here?”

Papyrus looked at him, defeated.

“I’LL GIVE YOU THREE GUESSES.”

“you promised me, papyrus.”

“I KNOW.”

“you promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

“I KNOW, SANS.”

“we had a big talk and everything.”

“WE DID.”

A long, withering pause between them, hanging like a noose.

“i know what it’s like. there’s a way through, y’know. it doesn’t seem like it, but there is.”

“I BELIEVE YOU.”

“then why do it?”

“BECAUSE THE PROSPECT OF DEALING WITH EVERYTHING WITHOUT SOMETHING TO FALL BACK ON TERRIFIES ME.”

Sans, hearing his old thoughts echoed back at himself, sighed. He pinched his nasal bone, before rubbing his face and moving his hands back and over his scalp.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO WORRY YOU.”

“you did.”

“SORRY. I USED TO SCOLD YOU FOR LEAVING AND DRINKING AWAY YOUR PROBLEMS, AND I STILL DON’T CONDONE IT, BUT I… I UNDERSTAND IT, NOW? THIS IS ONLY FAIR. IT WAS AN EXCHANGE, AFTER ALL, A DEAL. I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED THIS.”

“waking up and going, ‘boy, alcoholism sounds fun’ isn’t a smart move, bro.”

Papyrus, caught off-guard by this statement, laughed.

“SANS!”

Sans laughed sourly, not enjoying this.

“IT’S NOT… QUITE LIKE THAT. I DON’T HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT, I THINK. UNDYNE SAID THAT MY ‘MOOD TOOK A NOSEDIVE’. I’M NOT SURE WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO TELL HER. FROM HER POINT OF VIEW I WAS THE SAME AS ALWAYS, THEN JUST WOKE UP ONE DAY LIKE...”

He motioned to himself, unsure of how to describe the change in demeanour.

“you could tell her the truth if you wanted. might make you feel better.”

“IT MIGHT. A LOT HAPPENED, TOO MUCH. I KEEP TRYING TO BRING IT UP, AND THEN… I CAN’T. HAVE YOU TOLD ANYONE?”

“nah… i thought if anyone should know, it should be on your terms.”

“YOU ALWAYS WERE THE STOIC ONE.”

Papyrus circled the rim of his glass with his finger before becoming animated, his real self shining through.

“UNDYNE; SHE’S A LIEUTENANT NOW! I MEAN, IT’S ALL FOR SHOW, BUT I’M SO HAPPY FOR HER! SHE’S THRILLED. SHE REALLY DESERVES THIS, I’VE NEVER SEEN HER SO EXCITED, WHICH IS SAYING A LOT BECAUSE THAT’S HER DEFAULT EMOTION. SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED; ASGORE HAS BEEN TAKING CARE OF LOTS OF POLITICAL THINGS I DON’T REALLY UNDERSTAND AND IS ALSO STARTING… SOME SORT OF… LANDSCAPING BUSINESS? HE TRIMMED A HEDGE WITH MY FACE ON IT!”

Papyrus clumsily rooted in his pocket for his phone, having trouble fetching it with his hand. After a mumbled curse it was out. He showed Sans the picture, of Papyrus looking fresh and upbeat and posing next to the hedge. It was a very good likeness of the way he appeared during the day.

“EVERYONE SAYS ‘OH, YOU CAN’T RUN A LANDSCAPING BUSINESS _AND_ GOVERN’, WHICH I THINK IS VERY DEFEATIST. HE’LL DO WELL. HAVE YOU SEEN HIS PETUNIAS? LEGENDARY. LEGENDARY PETUNIAS. HE HAS THE WISE, FLUFFY HANDS OF A MAN THAT KNOWS HIS SHRUBS. WHO DOESN’T WANT A HEDGE TRIMMED BY THE KING OF MONSTERS? BUFFOONS! THAT’S WHO.”

Sans, spying a thread of normalcy, tugged at it.

“how’s alphys? haven’t heard from her in a few weeks.”

Papyrus continued, letting him.

“OH, ALPHYS! SHE’S BEEN SO BUSY LATELY I HAVEN’T SEEN HER, BUT FROM WHAT UNDYNE TELLS ME SHE’S BEEN RUSHED OFF HER FEET! SHE’S LIKE A MACHINE, THE AMOUNT OF WORK SHE GETS DONE IS UNBELIEVABLE. SHE’S GIVING LECTURES ON ADVANCED ROBOTICS AND MAGICAL STUDIES, ALL OVER THE WORLD. I THINK SHE’S IN… CHEENA?”

“china?”

“THAT’S THE ONE! I WONDER WHAT THE FOOD IS LIKE THERE?”

“where would you go, if you could? if money was no object.”

Papyrus hemmed, forgetting his drink for a moment and tapping his fingertips against the polished wood of the bar.

“I DON’T REALLY KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT DIFFERENT COUNTRIES, BUT… ITALY. I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO ITALY SOMEDAY. OR CHEENA.”

“china.”

“CHINA.”  

More rapping, the four soothing, stacked clicks, back and forth, back and forth.

“YOU COULD DO THAT, YOU KNOW. GIVE TALKS. YOU’RE MORE THAN QUALIFIED.”

“can’t do it.”

“WHY NOT? YOU’RE A SMART MAN. LAZY, BUT SMART. YOU’RE GOOD WITH CROWDS, YOUR BONE PUNS ALWAYS GET A FEW LAUGHS OUT OF PEOPLE THAT AREN’T ME.”

“too many bad memories.”

He waited for Papyrus to push him on the topic.

“YEAH...”

And the rapping stopped and with it the effervescence, until he was sunken and hollow again.

“I’M NOT SURE HOW MUCH I HAVE LEFT IN ME, SANS.”

Sans remained quiet, letting him chatter.

“I TRIED, SANS.”

“you did.”

“I TRIED AS HARD AS I COULD. MAYBE TOO MUCH. AND I’D DO IT AGAIN.”

“i wouldn’t want you to.”

“WHAT YOU WANTED HASN’T REALLY COME INTO THINGS FOR A WHILE. I JUST WANTED TO DO WHAT WAS BEST.”

“and this is it?”

“MAYBE IT’S WHAT’S BEST FOR ME.”

“you don’t really think that.”

“NO… NO, NOT REALLY.”

He knocked back his rum and coke, not flinching.

“BUT I’M NOT SURE WHAT I’M MEANT TO DO. I STILL SMELL IT, YOU KNOW. IF I STOP FOR TOO LONG.”

“the booze?”

“THE BLOOD. IN THE FOREST, WITH FRISK, THE BLOOD. IT’S SWEETER THAN YOU THINK IT IS, IT’S SO STRANGE. MUSKY, AND METALLIC. LIKE A VERY OLD RAILING, AND IT FLAKES JUST AS MUCH. THE FEEL OF IT, TOO. IT TURNS TO STICKY LUMPS IN YOUR HANDS. BUT IT’S SLIMY FIRST. IT MUST BE A NIGHTMARE TO GET OFF CLOTHES. AND IF THERE’S EVEN A LITTLE THE SMELL IS PASTED TO YOU, IT’S AWFUL. I HATE IT. I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO LOOK FRISK IN THE EYE SINCE IT HAPPENED, THE SMELL, I HAVE TO EXCUSE MYSELF AND GAG EVERY TIME. BUT I THINK I’M USED TO IT. I CAN SMELL IT NOW.”

“right now?”

“RIGHT NOW.”  

Papyrus’ hand was shaking. Sans was unsure if this was due to the alcohol, or the trauma. He rubbed Papyrus’ back, staying quiet, and it occurred to him it was probably both.

“have you talked to the kid about this?”

“THEY’RE A CHILD. I COULDN'T. I DON’T KNOW WHERE I WOULD BEGIN TO APPROACH THAT TOPIC. ‘KILLING YOU REALLY UPSET ME, LISTEN TO ME COMPLAIN’. THEY’RE HANDLING IT WELL, THANK GOD.”

“yeah. too well?”

“WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING?”

“i mean, something was up with them from the outset. how do we know it wasn’t really them doing all the kill--”

Sans saw something in Papyrus, a glimmer of his old self, enough to give him some relief.

“DON’T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT. HAVE SOME FAITH!”  

“you’ve changed your tune.”

“I DON’T THINK I HAVE.”

It clicked for Sans. Papyrus’ unwavering faith in others that had not been corroded. Even in his downcast state, it gleamed brightly, brilliantly. It wasn’t his faith in others that was compromised, oh no, that was too thick a chain to snap. It was the one, rusted link at the top, tethering who and what he was to the world. His faith in himself. And Sans didn’t know how to repair such a thing.

“come on, you’re the great papy--”

Papyrus was quiet. Sans almost couldn’t make him out over the idle chatter around them.

“DON’T.”

“don’t what?”

“DON’T… DON’T DO THAT, PLEASE.”  

“right. sorry.”

Sans took a long, hard look at Papyrus, and found his gaze met with a dark chuckle lacking in humour, lacking in the easy, naive vigour that was very him.

“I’M GETTING SOME DEJA VU.”

“we’re both well acquainted with that.”

“WE ARE.”

“this ain’t good, what you’re doing.”

“IT ISN’T, NO. IS THIS WHAT GROWING UP IS LIKE?”

“i’m not the best candidate to ask, but… no. not usually, no.”

“IT’S GOOD TO SEE THAT I’M ADEPT AT DOING THINGS INCORRECTLY. IT’S ALMOST MY GREATEST SKILL.”

“stop saying things like that. it’s not funny.”

“I’M NOT LAUGHING, DON’T WORRY.”

Sans sighed.

“how are you for money?”

“HMM?”

“cash, you got enough to get by? i’ll give you some.”

“NO. I’M NOT LETTING YOU DO THAT.”

“if you need it--”

“I DON’T.”

Sans resumed what was quickly becoming his favourite activity; holding his head in his hands and cursing the man that ruined them both.

“no wonder you’re doing this. you had to put up with me swanning about the house, happy as a clam, meanwhile, you were going through… that. man…”

Papyrus’ face softened, his eyes gentle, unfocused and tired.

“IT WAS GOOD TO SEE YOU SO PEACEFUL! I HAD TO SPOIL IT, OF COURSE, BUT THOSE BREAKFASTS… I’LL NEVER FORGET THEM.”

“don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“LIKE WHAT?”

“that. self-deprecating. it doesn’t suit you. what happened to talking about how great you are? that was the best.”

“THINKING ON IT… IT WAS A LITTLE CHILDISH.”

“and constantly putting yourself down isn’t ‘adult’. it’s not healthy.”

Papyrus thought on this, not wanting to get into it but some deep, suppressed need forcing him to.

“AM I?”

“not right now, no. but give it time. i’ve got faith in you.”

“... THANK YOU. WE… REALLY DID SWAP, DIDN’T WE?”

“i don’t think you’re quite as bad as me yet,” sans huffed, trying to squeeze out an ounce of humour.

“LET’S NOT GET INTO MAKING FUN OF OURSELVES BECAUSE I HAVE A SHIFT IN TWO DAYS AND I WANT TO MAKE IT IN TIME.”

“i thought you lost your job?”

“I GOT ANOTHER, DISHWASHING AT NIGHTS. THAT RESTAURANT DOWN THE ROAD.”

“i’m glad to hear that.”

“SO AM I. WHAT ABOUT YOU?”

“i gig in clubs some nights,” he said. “run a market stall during the day, sell odds and ends.”

“HOW’S THAT GOING?”

“the gigs? lotta fun. you should come see me sometime.”

“I’D LIKE THAT.”

Papyrus turned to look him in the eye, towering and wan.

“YOU’VE COME A VERY LONG WAY,” he said, “AND I’M PROUD OF YOU. I’M SORRY WE HAVEN’T REALLY TALKED LATELY, BUT YOU… YOU UNDERSTAND.”

“yeah. yeah, i do. but don’t ignore my calls. everyone was worried. nobody could get ahold of you. i checked your apartment and you weren’t there.”

“IT’S NOT DELIBERATE. IT’S NOT AN EXCUSE, BUT IT’S NOT SOMETHING I SET OUT TO DO. I’M JUST… NOT IN THE MOOD FOR COMPANY.”

“it’s really bad, isn’t it?”

“I SUPPOSE IT IS. I’LL ADMIT,” he said, “THIS ISN’T WHERE I THOUGHT MY LIFE WOULD GO.”

“same here.”

“ARE YOU STILL PROUD OF ME?”

“yeah. always.”

“GOOD. THAT’S GOOD. THANK YOU.”

“don’t mention it.

Papyrus’ phone rang. It was set to vibrate, but the thrum could be heard. Papyrus looked at it, hesitated, then rejected the call. He sat with his palm on his lap, tucked into himself, an empty, drained husk of a man.

“MY PHONE HAS BEEN BLOWING UP, LATELY. IN THE METAPHORICAL SENSE. BUT IT MAKES SO MUCH NOISE THAT I’M ONE MISSED CALL AWAY FROM MAKING THAT LITERAL.”

He waited for another pity laugh, but even Sans didn’t indulge him that time.

“UGH, WHAT AM I SAYING. I SPEND _YEARS_ AND _YEARS_ LOOKING FOR FRIENDS AND WHEN I GET THEM I DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO AVOID TALKING TO THEM. I’M JUST… NOT READY FOR CONVERSATION.”

“it’s been months.”

“I KNOW. I’M GETTING WORRIED.”

He finished his drink, taking a breath.

“I WANT TO GO HOME.”

“you good to walk?”

“NOT REALLY.”   

“you’re sleeping at mine.”

“I DON’T WANT TO CAUSE TROUBLE.”

“too late for that. you can move back in if you want. no fuss. i got a spare room.”

“I DON’T KNOW IF THAT’S A GOOD IDEA…”

“why not?”

“IT DOESN’T… FEEL THE SAME. IT DOESN’T FEEL LIKE IT DID. I THINK THAT PART OF MY LIFE IS OVER. IT’S TIME TO DO THINGS ON MY OWN NOW.”

“it’s not working out so far.”

Papyrus, hurt, but conceding the point, nodded.

“... sorry. that was harsh.”

“NO. NO, YOU’RE RIGHT. BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD.”

“i know.”

“SO, SO HARD.”

“you don’t have to justify yourself to anyone. whatever you did, and whatever you have to do, i’ve got your back.”

“I DON’T REGRET IT. IT HURTS, BUT I DON’T REGRET IT. NOT EVEN A SECOND. BECAUSE IT MEANS I SPARED YOU.”

Sans stood on his feet, shifting on them, motioning for Papyrus to stand up.

“let’s get you back.”  

“I’M SORRY.”

“what are you apologising for?”

“I DON’T KNOW. BUT I’M SORRY.”

Papyrus bent down, slinging his arm uselessly over Sans’ shoulder as they prepared for the long, cold, awkward walk back.

“... THANKS, SANS.”

“don’t mention it, pap.”

Sans grit his teeth, bracing himself for the process, one which he would inevitably have to repeat.

**Author's Note:**

> if you've been following this from the beginning, thank you for sticking by me
> 
> if you're a new reader, i hope you enjoy yourself!


End file.
